


Cufflinks

by NoChaser



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Angst, Birthday, Hustler, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-24
Updated: 2013-10-24
Packaged: 2017-12-30 08:24:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1016340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoChaser/pseuds/NoChaser
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cufflinks, he thought. Maybe a few new sketchpads. His own new bottle of Grey Goose. Didn't have to be much. Just something to let him know he was remembered. Not forgotten.<br/>He had the passing thought that sometimes being forgotten was the better option.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cufflinks

**Author's Note:**

> The lack of outrage on Justin's part for the hustler Brian got him for his birthday has always bugged the crap out of me.

* * *

CUFFLINKS

 

    Justin stood there with a stupid grin on his face, his eyes wide.

    Okay. He blinked.

    Okay. Blinked again.

    O-blinking-kay.

    He took one deep breath, held it long enough to cause him just a little twinge of pain. Let it out.

    He could feel the weight of Brian's hands on his shoulders, the hot press of groin to ass. It felt delicious and familiar and he wanted to just melt into it. Fall into that sweet oblivion that connection with Brian's body always teased him with.

    Wanted to. But couldn't. Couldn't fall. Couldn't move. Couldn't think.

    “Happy birthday, Sunshine.” The words hot in his ear.   Against his skin. “Go on. Open your present.”

    Cufflinks, he thought. Maybe a few new sketchpads. His own new bottle of Grey Goose. Didn't have to be much. Just something to let him know he was remembered. Not forgotten.

    He had the passing thought that sometimes being forgotten was the better option.

    Yeah. He could think of a few times when being forgotten would have been the much better option. He wished Chris Hobbs had forgotten him.

    And right now, he wished Brian Kinney had forgotten him.

    The much better option.

    “My present?” He was surprised at how o-blinking-kay he sounded.

    “Yep. All wrapped up nice and pretty with a Big. Red. Bow.” A squeeze on the right shoulder. “Cost a pretty penny, too, so I fully expect you to share.”

    He felt Brian's hands move down his body, gliding down his torso. Felt a palm cup his balls, his dick. He thinks it's the first time since they met that the Hand of God didn't get him hard. Even the Face of God always got him hard.

    Even Daphne managed to get him hard. Once.

    Right now, he thought he'd rather have Daphne's hand there.

    “You know, Sunshine, this works better if Tab A is stiff enough to insert into Slot B.”

    Justin giggled. He wondered if Brian noticed it sounding a little hysterical.

    “I'm sure your Tab A is hard enough for both of us.” He stepped sharply to the right. Toward the window. Away from the bed. He shrugged Brian's hands away. He felt a strong need to be alone. Really alone. Forgotten alone.

    “You shouldn't have spent so much on me, Brian.” _Or anything at all_. “You could have just pissed in a cup and poured it over my art.” _Again_. “Believe me, I would have appreciated it just as much and you'd be all the richer.”

    Even with three feet between them, he could feel Brian tense. Snark tense. Hateful tense.

    “You'd have been happier if I'd tattooed a rose on his ass?”

    “Cufflinks,” he said. Knew Brian would think it a non sequitur. Knew Brian wouldn't really wonder about it long.

    He walked to the desk and picked up his Discman and the CD he'd casually tossed there earlier. Grabbed his jacket and headed for the door.

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing.


End file.
